Blood and Heart
by Zelek
Summary: Sly agrees to sacrifice what is in his blood for what is in his heart, but there are consequences for every action.
1. Exposure and Closure

This is the beginning of none other than a Sly story, not one shot. Expect chapters, plot, and suspense, all that jazz. Sly and all the characters ya know and love belong to Sucker Punch, but any character(s) of original design are mine and mine alone. If there is a particularly mature scene, I will post it seperately from the story or post a warning and write absolutely no plot into it.

Inspecter Sly Cooper relaxed into his reclining chair in the ever over air conditioned Interpol office in Paris. The biting cold made his fingers feel less mobile than usual, so he popped his knuckles and stretched them out. He had just finished putting the finishing touches on a report that was due in a few days, but he, unlike his female partner, was never the procrastinator. He flinched as he train of thought remembered Carmelita and he glanced at the time. It was fifteen minutes past two in the morning.

"Shit." he muttered. "Carm is going to KILL me." He cut off his desktop and lamp and made his way out of the office. The halls were empty and quite, much like the night he broke into the very same building to begin his adventure against the Fiendish Five. He chuckled at the memory and thought back on how far he'd come since. As he stepped into the biting cold of the French February he shuddered. He remembered quickly that he had told Carmelita to go ahead and take the car home and that he'd just take a taxi. He looked around and saw no sign of any life, much less a taxi, so he decided he'd have to get home the way he liked it; running rooftop to rooftop.

His route home took him through alleys and over rooftops as the inspector divulged himself in his only remaining pleasure from his thieving days. He was still living with Carmelita under the impression of his amnesia, but she was becoming slightly suspicious. In his defense, he had seriously had amnesia for the first few hours of the aftermath of the fall of Dr. M. But even after it faded, he didn't speak up. The whole way back to Interpol in Paris, Carmelita had been holding his hand, part of it in a motherly fashion to protect him, the other half just as scared as he was. For all she knew, there could be only prison waiting for him. Sly somewhat suspected that this would end with him making some fiasco of an escape and he and Carmelita returning to their game of cops and robbers, yet, it never came. Chief Barkley was, after much pleading and enticing, willing to allow Sly a chance. They put Sly on a cold case, which he masterfully solved when he proved a discrepency in the suspect's alibi and managed to find a suitable murder weapon in the vicinity of the crime to match the wound of the victim. Sly chuckled to himself. Cops always try to think like a criminal, which is why he would be the best cop.

At two thirty, Sly snuck into the apartment that he shared with Carmelita. He thanked God that they both had the next day off with his eyes closed, and when he opened them, they were locked with Carmelita's.

"Um...Morning sunshine?"

"Uh-huh, and where were you?" She said accusingly.

"Finishing the report for the Anderson case so there's no reason for Chief to call us in tomorrow or Sunday." Sly took a slight step back in fear at the sound of her voice. After a few seconds Carmelita's intense, disapproving stare turned soft as she smiled understandingly. Even so, there was a hint of disturbed disbelief in her eyes.

"See, that's why I keep you around. You're such a good officer and a good assistant."

"Oh, I'm hurt, I'm just a pawn to you."

Carmelita suddenly lunged forward and hugged him. Sly reacted slowly to it out of shock. He could feel an uneasy tenseness vibrating off her as their bodies contacted one another. He could sense her unsureness, and knew something was bothering her.

"You okay Carmelita?"

"Somewhat, I'm just thinking."

"About what?"

She stepped to the side and Sly's eyes followed the light behind her to the small lamp above a desk next to the window. On the desk was his journal. Reality hit him fast.

"Lo siento...I..."

"You had to know for sure?"

"...Si..." Carmelita looked away shamefully.

"It's okay." Sly shrugged. "I was trying to figure out how to tell you my self."

"So you were going to tell my on your own?"

"Carmelita, I may be a thief, but I'm not a liar."

Those words broke her and she started to cry and beat on his chest wildly.

"Tu estupido culo! How could you just go and let me do something like that! You should have stopped me, now you're going to leave and I'll have to chase you again and clean up the mess and...and..."

"Carmelita, shut up." Sly said darkly, his eyes and tone filled with unfamiliar seriousness. She stepped back fearfully. "I'm not going ANYWHERE. Yes, I want to thief again, it's in my blood, but the blood is pumped by my heart and that belongs to you. Let's face it, you and I have been through so much and yet, time after time, it comes down to that fine line of black and white that seperate us. You couldn't see a shade of gray, so I bleached myself to white. I'm willing to sacrifice that for you if you are willing to give me the bloody chance." Sly walked past her and let out a sigh as he lost himself in thought. Finally, he straighted out his back with conviction and turned to face her.

"Sly..."

"I'm not done yet!...I just...One of my last memories of my parents..." Carmelita immediately paid heed, knowing the importance of the oncoming words. "One of the last things I remember my parents talking about was sacrifice. My mother was talking to my father about how much he had sacrificed for her. She was thanking him for giving up all he knew for her. I was listening from outside their room, and that's when she let out the bombshell. The Fiendish Five didn't kill the Cooper Clan that night, but they managed to kill not two, but three of us."

The realization was quick to Carmelita. Sly's mother was pregnant the night she died. She watched as a single, glimmering tear fell from Sly's face as he finished his story.

"Oh God Sly..."

"I never told anyone, not even Bentley and Murray. I'm telling you because I don't want any lies or secrets between us; only honesty. I'm willing to make a sacrifice if you're willing to give me a chance."

Carmelita slowly nodded.

"I will Sly. Now, can we please stop crying? I'm not used to seeing you like this."

Sly smiled and wiped at where the tear had trailed down his muzzle. "There's just alot I keep locked away."

Carmelita nodded and hugged him once more. As Sly hugged back, his overdeveloped thieving senses knew he was being watched. The feeling passed as quickly as it came and he shrugged it off. The pair slowly parted from each other and the silence was broken when Carmelita realized just how sweaty Sly was.

"...Did you run here?"

"Um, maybe?" He sniffed himself and could easily detect the strong body odor wafting off of him.

"...Great, now I need another shower." Carmelita said with fluster.

"If it wasn't so inappropriate, I'd volunteer to take it with you."

"I'm sure you would Sly. I promise to leave some hot water for you if you're lucky."

"Great, I think I'm going to need more horseshoes."

"Then while you get those, I'll take my shower." And with that Carmelita disappeared into the dark hallway of the apartment and into the bathroom. The sound of running water cascading rumbled in Sly's ears as he stared out the window, scanning the skyline for any kind of threat. When nothing caught his attention, he turned to staring at the rolling steam coming out from under the bottom of the bathroom door. Sly stripped himself of his shirt and discarded it into wide closet that held the washer and dryer used by the pair. Sly listened as Carmelita hummed in the sweet, thick Spanish accent as he prepared the couch as his bed. He was about to take off his pants when Carmelita stepped out of the bathroom. The two locked eyes for a second before blushing slightly like high schoolers and looking elsewhere. Even in her bathrobe, Sly could see Carmelita's curves that made him question his morals.

"I, um, left the water running...It's still nice and steamy."

"Thanks Carm." Sly slid past her into the bathroom and shut the door lightly. Carmelita exhaled in relief. That racoon was too attractive for his own good. Part of her took close heed to the fact that he failed to lock the door and that he was probably in there, completely naked. The sound of sliding shower curtains confirmed this and she blushed at the thoughts running through her head. Finally, she shook herself out of it and walked to her room. As she slid on a nightgown, she wondered what Sly meant by he had alot locked away. After chasing him for so many years, she'd like to think she knew it all, that she had him figured out, but perhaps there was still some mystery to Sly yet. That's when she decided that tomorrow, she would talk to him about doing a geneology to see if he had any living relatives whatsoever. A family does not go throughout the generations and centuries only having one child who only has one child, the strict discipline and adherance to such a code must have surely been broken somewhere. Then, she thought back on how strong Sly's morals were.

He was a virgin, as far as she, or anyone, knew.

He never stole from the poor or innocent, only criminals.

He helped expose evidence on said criminals.

He saved her countless times, and made her career.

He was never arrogant, just confident.

When she weighed this against what she knew of his upbringing, she knew that Sly must have been a strong person, if even as a child. It only perked her curiousity more though. How does one without a family for so long, go through life to become such an interesting fur?

Sly stepped out of the bathroom feeling refreshed and sore. He walked over the table with his journal on it and turned off the lamp. He was too tired to write tonight, even though he wanted to catalog all that had happened. His muscles yearned for bed and he appeased them by collapsing onto the couch. He settled into the thick, yet confortable cushions of the couch and pulled a thick blanket over himself. As he felt his consciousness slipping and he smiled and wondered what else could happen this weekend.

Carmelita cut off the final light in her room and slid into her bed. She felt it was unfair to put the racoon out on the couch, but he had volunteered for it like a gentlefur. Part of her wanted to go out there and tell him to get into the bed with her, but she felt it would be too...bold...and may even intimidate him a bit. She chided herself mentally. Why did she care if she intimidated him or scared him off, it's not like there were in a relationship...She gasped as she realized that Sly had pretty muchly just confessed his love for her and she hadn't really picked up on it. She had to hand it to him, his metaphor on the blood and heart were quite breath taking and well placed. She sighed at the romantic implimications. Part of her felt giddy like a high school girl, which was quickly quelled be the resurfacing of old memories that deserved to die hard. She silenced them and cleared her mind, deciding that sleep would be in her best intentions. As she slipped away, she only thought of one thing:

Tomorrow was going to be an interesting day indeed.


	2. A Foundation

And so commences Chapter Two. Someone wise noticed a few typoes in chapter one and my one shots, this is due to the fact I am writing on notepad with no spellcheck, so give me credit for the few I make. I'll get Word soon enough. Sly Cooper belongs to Sucker Punch and all that jazz. And by the way, I'm pulling some serious crap out my ass to make this story more interesting to read and to write so...bear with me if there is some definite false information. If you know for a fact that something I type up is wrong, please send me a message so I can know this information for a fact in the future.

* * *

Sly woke up before the sun had risen over the far East of the city, though he could see the faint glimmer of it's rays reddening the skyline. He stood stoic at the window and let the sun rise as he lost himself in thought. Sly was infamous for his flirtateousness and cunning, but if there was one thing he was also good at, it was keeping secrets. From the day he took up his family's mantle, he had been so focused on his revenge and then saving the world and righting the wrongs of the underground society of stealing, that he never truly got time to reflect on his life often. He closed his eyes as the sun's first rays warmed his fur. He felt a slight tug on his heart as he thought fondly on one of his favorite memories of his father. It was one where his father had spontaneously taken him out kite flying at the beach. As Sly's eyes were closed, he swear he could feel the salty breeze that took the kite into the sky that afternoon. As his memory wandered, he could practically feel the conforting presence of his father. As he opened his eyes, he noticed the source of the presence was Carmelita, who was sitting in a chair near him, slightly staring at him with a warm smile.

"Morning." She said, noticing he had noticed her. She blushed and look away at the rising sun. "Sorry, it's just...The way you were standing there, you seemed so happy you were sad...It's difficult to describe."

Sly nodded and took a seat across from her, still dressed in only his boxers which did not go unnoticed by Carmelita. "I was thinking about my father is all. I don't get to think of him that often and I can't remember the last time I visited his grave."

"Where is he buried?"

"Arlington National Cemetary in Washington D.C. in the United States." Carmelita shot back in surprise.

"Oh, he served in Vietnam?"

"Nope, World War Two."

"W-what?"

Sly smiled as her shock. "It's a little known fact that my father served in The War."

Carmelita did some mental math and looked at Sly with quirked eyebrows.

"Yes, my father was in his sixties when I was born. He had been long retired, but had some trouble finding Ms. Right after his years of betrayal and stealing." Sly chuckled. "I always thought the same thing myself honestly, luckily, fate intervened." Carmelita knew he was talking about her.

"Sly...I'll admit, I was a little slow from shock last night that your words didn't sink in until after you had gone to bed. " She stook up and placed her paws on his shoulders and they locked eyes. Sly smiled and blushed lightly as he looked for the right words to say. Sure, he could say anything in conversation, but he knew that depending on what he says, he could finally concrete the on and off relationship that they had had since that kiss in Russia after the fall of Clockwerk.

"And...?" He said, hoping to entice her into saying something he could use.

"And I know that we've had some kind of fling going on for all this time, but it's time we settle this, what are we?" Sly felt a mental lightbulb go off.

"What are we? We are...going on a date."

"A date?"

Sly nodded. "Sure, we've flirted over the years, shared a few close moments, and had several engrossing conversations, but not once have we really gone on a date to really get to know each other. I say we do a traditional dinner and a movie like a couple of confused teenagers and just see where things go." Carmelita couldn't help but smile. It wasn't what she was anticipating to hear, but it sure as hell was something she could expect from him.

"Well, then where exactly do you want to go?"

"No where special really. Bentley and Penelope went to a fancy restaurant for their first date. Not exactly my scene. I'm more of a middle class fur. I just want a good time. My father was a gentlefur and my mother was also from a higher end family. After their death and the loss of my inheritance, both legally and illegaly gained, I lived in the orphanage and met Bent and Murray as you know."

Carmelita nodded and back off from Sly and smirked.

"If you wanna have a conversation on your past, do me a favor?"

"Sure."

"Can you put some clothes on?" An awkward silence was broken by their joined laughter.

"Yea, that'd probably help, wouldn't it?" Sly stood up from his chair and dug around his folded clothes in a corner of the room for a pair of confortable pants. As he turned back to Carmelita, he noticed she had moved to the kitchen and begun making an omelette for the two of them.

"I noticed that even after I came to live with you three monthes ago, we only discussed a false past and a present that was based on it. So, all barriers aside, ask me those burning questions that have been bothering you over the years." Sly slid into a barstool at the bar that was in front of the cooking range and watched her ponder what to ask while cooking. Finally, she looked up at him.

"Where were you born? The file said you were born in England, but it also said your father was always a thief, and if what you say is true about your father, then there has been some major discrepencies."

"Honestly, I was born in America. In New York, a small town called Allens. My mother was a waitress in a small diner in town in the nineteen sixty nine. My father was forty five, she was nineteen. He frequented the diner once every month and always left her a nice tip in the form of a one hundred dollar bill with a phrase of advice to help her along with life. When she decided to go to college, she confided this in him and in return, he decided to help her through it. At first, she was his atonement for his life of crime, but as she reached her mid twenties, she couldn't help but fall for the fur who had changed her life forever. By the time she was thirty, she married him. He was fifty six. They married in ninteen eighty. I was born five years later."

"Making you twenty four, at least the file was accurate there." She rolled her eyes from the amazing amount of inaccuracies. "I have to say, your dad must have had some serious mojo to him."

"You're telling me, I can only hope I have half the luck he did."

"With your charm, I think you'll do fine."

Sly smirked and leaned on the counter as she flipped the omelette and thought on the new information she had just learned.

"So Carmelita, tell me about where you were born; I may have been a cloak in the shadows, but I wasn't exactly your stalker."

"That's somewhat relieving. I was born in Madrid, Spain. My father was a rich businessman, and my mother, she was..." Carmelita turned off the burner and split the omelette onto two plates and served them both onto the counter and slid around to join him. "My mother was a...prostitute." The word dripped of regret and guilt the moment it left her mouth. Sly, who was about to pick up his fork, stopped suddenly. The casualness of the conversation was gone and had taken a turn down to seriousness.

"Carmelita, you don't need to say anything you're not fully confortable with. Do not feel obligated to tell me anything."

"It's okay Sly, honestly...you'll be the first guy to know this much about me. Even though I was a bastard child, my father loved me dearly. I remember when I first met him when I was four. My mother had died of a sexually transmitted disease she had contracted not too long after my birth. She died on a park bench in the dead of winter. The police found me the next day, huddling to her body. I had no name, and no clue who my father was, but when they asked me if I had a daddy, I showed them the picture of my father, and they recognized him and took me to him. He took me and the officers into the house and let me sit by the fire and eat some dinner while he talked to the police. When he came out of the dining room, he sat by me and put his arm around me and said to me 'Hello Carmelita, I'm your daddy.' and it was then that he had adopted me." Carmelita's voice was broken up as she spoke between bites. Sly put his arm around her and rubbed her shoulder.

"Enough Carmelita, say no more. I think you've done enough heart-felt confessions to last you this morning." Carmelita nodded lightly and the two finished their breakfast in silence with a few well placed compliments to Carmelita's cooking from Sly. Sly, besides enjoying his breakfast, was also thinking deeply on what Carmelita had said. Certainly there as an event in her past that sparked her interest in policing similar to the one that sparked his in thiefing. Something must have created the self-righteous justice bringer Carmelita was.

But he knew that was another conversation for another time. Right now, he was more worried about what he was going to do for their impending date.


	3. Shadow

Sly Cooper belongs to Sucker Punch. I just happen to get bored and write. Didn't think I was gonna finish this one tonight, but then I got an idea.

* * *

After their breakfast, Sly insisted on doing the dishes. As he washed them, Carmelita sat down on the couch lost in thought. Part of her was slightly afraid that she had chased Sly off slightly, but when they accidently locked eyes, he smiled and she felt all her self-conscious fears disappear. Upon finishing his chore, Sly went over to his stack of clothes and pulled on a shirt. He then walked over to by the couch where Carmelita was still thinking on her past. Sly could tell that she had brought up some serious scars to the surface. She was distant, something he had never seen her like before. He sat precariously on the other end of the couch and waited for some signal to acknowledge him.

Finally, Carmelita looked over to him and sighed.

"Sorry, I just needed a moment."

"It's perfectly understandable."

"You probably see me differently now."

Sly hesitated before nodding. "I see you as a stronger fur now. Few furs could go from an upbringing like that without some emotional scars. And look at you now! You're one of the top Interpol officers in the world. I bet your mother would be proud of you." Sly mentally cursed at himself for that last remark; figuring it was too soon to say something like that. Thankfully, it only worked to encourage Carmelita and she threw her arms around him and pulled him to her. She buried her head into his chest and tried to speak, but Sly couldn't understand what she said.

"Huh?"

Carmelita moved her head back some and closed her eyes.

"You damn ringtail, always making me have complicated emotions." Sly smirked.

"Would you rather throw me in prison then?"

"No, but if you're not careful, you'll end up in handcuffs."

Sly blushed lightly and tried not to picture an image in his head. But by trying not to, he did and he had to inwardly admit, he liked what he was thinking of. However, he was able to not betray his thoughts with his expression as he pretended to look deep in thought.

"Oh boy, now you're thinking."

"Yes, about where I want us to go is all."

Carmelita's smile grew into a wicked grin of all knowing. She knew what was on his mind. She just had to expose him; after all, all men are perverts on some level. However, before she could make a comment, the phone rang.

"I'll get it." Sly whispered as Carmelita pried herself from him.

As Sly conversed on the phone, Carmelita was able to pick up a few key words that told her it was their office. Finally, Sly hung up the phone and growled audibly at the plastic menace that had decided to be the messenger to ruin their day.

"The Chief wants us, apparently, it's an emergency."

"How distraught did he sound?"

"I don't exactly how to describe it in words. I just say we better get to Interpol."

"That bad?"

"He told us to not even bother putting on our uniforms."

Carmelita cursed loudly and ran to her room and threw off her nightgown and threw on a pair of jeans and a shirt and ran back out her room to see Sly on the windowsill.

"I'll meet you there, I promise it'll be faster for me to get there this way. Be careful driving!" Before Carmelita could say a word, Sly disappeared from sight. She ran to the window just in time to see him rebound onto the roof of the building across the street. He turned and waved before continuing his dash. Carmelita shut the window and locked the door after she shut it. She rushed down the stairs out of the building's main reception room and into the open street where she flagged down a taxi with her badge. She hopped into it and showed the taxi driver her badge.

"Interpol, GO!"

From the rooftops, Sly could practically sense a disturbance in the air. Something seemed horribly wrong with the phone call. In the short time Sly had known him, he had come to know that Chief Barkley expected only the highest level of professionalism. Could his direct order to not worry about wearing a uniform have been some kind of subtle clue. Sly paused on an air conditioned unit to think momentarily on his unraveling thoughts. He decided he would approach Interpol through the roof instead of the ground floor entrance, in case of an ambush in waiting.

"Wait, an ambush in Interpol? I'm paranoid." He chided himself outloud. But nonetheless, his Cooper senses told him to take the roof, so when he reached the proud building of the Paris branch of Interpol, he did just that. With the grace of his ancestors and the cunning that only years in his field could bring, Sly leapt onto the rooftop and picked the lock on the door. He slid it open and some dust fell into his face and he coughed for a few seconds before listening for any other signs of life. Deciding there was nobody there, he descended down the stairs. He could feel from the erie darkness that engulfed the halls that his suspicions of an ambush may have been well founded. As he stared into the abyss, the resonding sound of clapping echoed down it.

"And so, we meet Cooper." Sly paused as the chilly voice sent a shudder down his spine. In the field of being a criminal, Sly had come to know when someone was a murderer, or killer, but the sheer amount of death that this fur's voice contained was equivalent to genocide. Cool, calm, confident, and collected with a hint of malice that made the heart quiver in mortal fear.

"W-who are you?" Sly winced. Even though he was berating himself to stay brave, his voice betrayed him. The final hanging light in the hall popped loudly and the blackness seemed to speak in unison with the fur who loomed within it.

"I'm old; ancient as your family. I am a harbinger, a vanguard of oblivion. I am the upholder of deals and the keeper of secrets."

"Your monologue is of no importance to me, tell me who you are!"

"I am an assassin here to kill you. Need you know more?"

Sly instantly cursed himself for not bringing his cane along. He slid into a fighting stand and put his back against the wall.

"Who sent you here?"

"If I told you, you'd never believe me."

"Try me."

"...Death."

"What?"

"Death, The Grim Reaper, the Fur with the Scythe, you know, the Ender of All Things."

"Call me crazy if I don't believe you."

"I don't blame you, it is a little crazy. But you've escaped him far too many times. But you Coopers are special. You see, your actions keep a void open in society. Sure, you steal from the criminals and right wrongs with wrongs, and in some cases, even help lock criminals away; But all you're doing is keeping a constant void for corruption, greed, and evil in the world. If you revoke your ways and stop stealing, then you let that void fill and stay, creating an inbalance."

"I fail to see how killing me solves ANYTHING by your logic then."

"True, but it's all cause and effect. We blame your death on the largest black market cartel in the world, and in vengeance, Carmelita brings it down and closes that void for all eternity. Then she takes up the void left by you. Essentially, we're taking two electrical sockets, and just cutting off both ends of it and sealing them."

Sly nodded in understanding and felt a cold sweat break out on his neck.

"This is, of course, all assuming I actually DIE today."

"Oh, you will. Right NOW!"

Instinctively, Sly ducked. He heard the sound of a blade cutting through the air and what he could only assume was a scythe lodged itself in the wall where his head had been not but a few milliseconds before. He did a low sweeping kick, but felt no presence with it so he rolled as far down the hall as he could and ducked into a cubicle. He heard several plunks and saw the faint glimmer of steel sticking out of the office floor from a dim light of a computer in the cubicle. He watched as the metal evaporated into thin tendrils of shadow and disappear into the darkness.

"Okay, seriously, what's with the supernatural shit? I've dealt with hypnotizism and voodoo, but this is just plain nuts."

"This is an ancient magic Sly. One older than anything you've ever encountered. This magic is what powered your nemesis Clockwerk, except on a smaller scale. Behold Cooper, the true power of Hatred!" Sly leapt into the air just as all the darkness in the room converged onto where he had been crouching and formed a pool. Sly landed in the now well illuminated hallway and faced the bubbling pool of black ooze. Slowly, a figure began to rise out of it.

"Curiousity killed the cat, good thing I'm a racoon!" Sly shouted as he turned and started to run. He grabbed onto the handle of the door to the stairs only to be caught by a pair of tentacles from the ooze. The figure, which loosely resembled a wolf, stared at him with a vicious grin of his yellowed teeth.

"It's rude to just ditch your guests Cooper. Perhaps a lesson in pain will teach you some manners." Despite their size, the tentacles were surprisingly strong and had no problem in picking Sly up and tossing him through a cubicle wall and into a computer. As it slid to the floor with a crash, Sly noticed a possible weapon on the wall by the copier machine. A single red fire extuingisher. Sly stood up and got back into a fighting stance with a plan in his mind, all due to one thing he knew and the...whateveritwas didn't.

Bentley didn't trust police fire extuingishers, so he installed his own with Sly's help. Fire extuingishers with a liquid nitrogen base instead of carbon dioxide. The creature launched it's tentacles again and Sly dashed as fast as he could. The second he reached the extuingisher, he pulled the tab and turned.

"I don't even need to say a one liner here!"

He pulled the trigger and the mixture at a temperature well below zero degrees Celsius rocketed through the air and coated the creatures tentacles. Sly released the trigger and used the large metal container to shatter the frozen appendages. The howl of pain that the shadow creature released fueled Sly's adrenaline and he rushed forward towards the main body. He sprayed it with what was left and smirked.

"Mission accomplished. I captured it."

But before he could let his victory set in, a gunshot rang and a bullet crashed through an office window and into the creature, shattering it into pieces. The shadows surrounding it disappeared and what was left was the shattered remains of someone he and Carmelita knew well.

Chief Barkley laid dead, and Sly knew he was gonna somehow get the blame. So he sat and waited. It took only a minute before Carmelita burst through the door.

"SLY! I heard a gunsh-SHIT!" She turned in horror and Sly ran to confort her.

This was going to take an unbelievable amount of explaining.


	4. A Conspiracy

So, um, hi. Yea, been a bit. Couple of weeks, right? Well, my mother fell deathly ill in the hospital and I changed some priorities. Add that with increased physical training, Christmas shopping, some serious drama in the home, and of course, finals for the semester, I just haven't had the time. My humblest apologies. But I spent a good time daydreaming about getting back to this, and finally, at 12:39 on my last night at my mother's house, the muse kicks me so hard in the ass I can't help it. By the way, I got a Droid and I do use it for reading fanfiction, so I'm up to date on all the stories I've been reading. Kudos to pasta16 for doing his 25 days of christmas thing, while short, and quick to the point, I found it quite entertaining.

Now, to solve a cliffhanger and leave another, ah, it feels good to be writing. By the way, a really good song is "She wolf" by Kyria, she does English trance versions of several famous Shakirra songs. I like Kyria more than Shakirra.

Yes, I'm a guy who listens to Shakirra, did you not read my profile and see DANCE listed?

...I digress, to the story you've all been waiting for!

All rights to the creators of Sly Cooper.

* * *

The situation Sly was in could simply be summed into one, simple, four letter word.

Shit.

Yep, shit definately described his predicament. As Carmelita mourned the loss of her fellow officer and mentor, Sly scoured the for anything. And he found it.

A tiny speck that looked like a bug. Deciding it may be important he stood up and put his hand on Carmelita's shoulder.

"This is officially a crime scene, I'm going to get the forensics kit." she nodded slowly. As Sly walked away, she called out to him, voice cracking.

"W-wait, if someone else were to come...what's our cover? We need a story."

Sly froze midstep. Was Carmelita talked about lying and covering up a murder? He thought a moment on their situation and decided that it was indeed the best course of action. They had nothing but a body and a little bug he had yet to investigate.

"You left your cell phone in your desk."

"Okay, then why would we be up here?"

"We heard a gunshot."

"And the fire extinguisher?"

Sly bit the inside of his cheek as he thought, finally he had an idea. A temporary solution.

"The chief was on fire, we tried to put him out."

"But a simple autopsy will reveal his wasn't on fire."

"But it'll buy us time to gather evidence for the truth."

"And if there is none...?"

Now that REALLY shocked Sly. The ever hopeful Carmelita wondering if there no evidence to be had. He knew then that he needed to wrap this up and get her home, she wasn't thinking clearly.

"Then we solve this through my means." The firmness in his voice startled Carmelita. She knew what he meant. A police officer can only get so much, but a thief can get anything they need. She shook her head.

"Let's just hope it doesn't come to that."

"Agreed." and with that, Sly opened the door to the stairwell and vanished down it.

* * *

"So you failed me?"

"Not entirely, the host was killed. I personally executed him."

"Ahh, then the damage is done none-the-less. Now my minion, listen well. You will take your weapon and head to the where the temple once was. There, you will unveil your true power and eridicate all who oppose us. Remember, this is a revenge thousands of years in the making."

"Of course my master."

* * *

Sly returned to the floor and snapped on a pair of rubber gloves and collected the insect and put it into a small vial. He then commenced to take photographs of the scene and noted the time in each one to help support his story should they get into any kind of trouble. After putting the camera awat, he poked the carpet and found several more of the peculiar insects, especially concecrated around where the body was. Soon he had the vial's bottom full of them and he closed it and pocketed it. He pulled out a black body bag and began to collect the shattered body of his once boss. He paused every so often to listen to Carmelita's soft whimpers of despair as she sat in a cubicle in a chair, her arms wrapped around her knees pulled to her chest.

When Sly finished the clean up, he removed the blood from the carpet and zipped up the body bag.

"It's done Carm."

She stood up shakily and nodded. A brief moment of eye contact and then the two of them embraced deeply. Carmelita cried heavily and unrequitedly into Sly's chest. Fear, remorse, grief, despair, pain, anguish, nervousness; a thousand emotions that became a torrent of tears and a flood of fears.

And Sly was no better.

Sure, Sly was used to breaking laws, but this, THIS.

He could be labeled a cop killer. He had never killed anyone in his life. It went against the teachings of his family.

Yet, as he looked down at the swollen eyes of his blue haired love, he felt a rage in him like never before.

Sly Cooper was no killer, but he was going to kill who ever did this.

He looked down again and noticed something shining in a corner.

"What the..." Carmelita followed his eyesight to the shining object, a ring in the corner. She walked over to it and picked it up.

"I've seen this before. Chief wore it once..."

_Carmelita knocked lightly on the Chief's door. He grumbled an 'enter' and she did so. She saw he was wearing a rather formal suit and was fumbling with something in his hand._

_"Yes Ms. Fox?"_

_"I have the report you asked for sir..." She laid it on his desk gingerly. Part of his was slightly afraid, the other curious. She had never seen the Chief so focused and concerned before._

_"If I may sir, what is bothering you?"_

_The Chief looked up at her and showed her the ring._

_"Do you know what this is?"_

_"No sir."_

_"It's a ring of a powerful organization. One that I have been privileged enough to join. The trouble is...I cannot say much on the subject, but let's just say, there's going to be a flood coming, and we are the ones trying to stop it."_

_"And who is 'we'?"_

"The Freemasons." Carmelita said in a daze.

"As in the same Freemasons from 'National Treasure' and all that?" Sly questioned her. She nodded.

"They are an old organization. Rich and powerful. It makes you wonder..."

Sly snapped his fingers in realization.

"The Freemasons originated in Egypt. Same as-"

"Your first ancestor."

"Slytutkhamen. What does it mean though? Could there be anything there?"

"I don't know Sly. The Freemasons are thought to just be a bunch of old furs meeting in lodges to discuss women and golf now-a-days. But, still. There could be more."

"I'm going to take these insects to Bentley for analysis, he'll believe our story." Carmelita's blood went cold.

"What?"

"We need people we can trust right now Carmelita."

"I know but..."

"We're not going to steal anything. We're just going to the safehouse...." Sly trailed off. Carmelita immediately knew he was thinking of something risque.

"Sly?"

"Carmelita...what if we take the body with us? That way, no one will know he's dead, he'll be listed as missing and Bentley will be able to take a look at it too. I know its VERY illegal, and makes us an accessory to murder, but right now, we need to stay out of jail and found out what the HELL all this means. Just trust me."

Carmelita clenched her fists and stormed up to Sly. He winced and prepared himself for her onslaught but was only greeted with her handing him Barkley's ring.

"I hope your right Sly. I REALLY do. I'm going to trust you."

Sly nodded and smiled.

"Take the fire escape and take a taxi to the apartment, I'm going to take this all by rooftop to the safehouse, then I'll come back for you."

"Alright." The two looked into the other's eyes, looking for something. A sign, a signal; anything to spark the fuel of passion that was ready to explode between them, yet in such a time, the spark just couldn't ignite. Carmelita blushed under the intense gaze and looked away and smiled at him once more before heading towards the stairs. Sly watched her go, her hips swaying slightly as she went.

Sly let out the breath he was holding and hefted the forensics kit onto his back and picked up the bodybag. The awkwardness of the broken pieces shifting the black plastic made it hard to carry, but Sly knew he had to.

He had to hide this body to protect Carmelita.

* * *

All was quiet in the White House. The past week had been very lax on the President, and it showed in his demeanor. As he rested in his chair in the oval office, he couldn't help but enjoy the rare moment of relative peace he had. All the lights were off and he had his eyes closed, taking in the sounds of the most powerful building in the world. But even from under his eyelids, he could see the light coming in from under one of the doors. He opened his eyes when the light went dark for several moments. He stared at the door and then the light returned. He shrugged and kicked back into his chair once more.

Suddenly, a hand grabbed the chair and spun it around and the President found himself staring into the red eyes of a creature seemingly made of shadows.

"Finally, after centuries of planning and waiting, one of you is in the seat of power. One who knows all the answers to the questions I have."

The President gulped and played with the Freemason ring on his finger. Being of high accordance in the society, he knew with what he was speaking with. He seethed out it's name as if it was an old relative come to visit with a one way ticket, trying not to show his fear.

"Agony."

"I see that my name is not lost, even after your people escaped me in your little ships to this 'new world'. There is much for us to discuss....."


	5. The Situation Building

So, I have finally have Microsoft Word. And I'm sure I'm talking to emptiness due to readers moving on due to my lack of updates. My apologies. Life has been busy the past couple of weeks, especially with my training I do every night in order to strengthen my body for boot camp in eight months. On that note, I just returned from touring a few Navy ships in port with my DEP group (Delayed Entry Program). I decided to skip the video games and go straight to training, then shower, so I'd have an hour to write for you guys. Once again, I sincerely apologize for the lack of updates. Life just sucks sometimes, ja?

On with zhe show!

Bentley's day had been going great. He woke up next to his wife and had made several breakthroughs in his studying of spinal repair. In the time after his last heist with Sly, he succumbed to selfishness for once and decided that he wanted his legs back. However, he was still having issues with building up the muscle mass in disabled tissue in order for it to sustain the weight of walking. He sighed and returned to his microscope, hoping for another miracle. His concentration, however, was interrupted by a light tap on the door. Bentley abruptly turned in his wheel chair and rolled over to it. The door opened upon his command and Sly strode in with his head down low with a large black sack with him.

"Sly? What's wrong?"

"I need your help."

"Okay, what else is new? What's in the bag?"

"What remains of Chief Barkley." Bentley's blood went cold.

"Y-y-you killed him?"

"No, but something possessed him and when I froze it with a fire extinguisher, someone shot him with a high powered sniper rifle and it shattered his body. I brought what seems to be insects from where he was killed. They are really weird." Sly walked by Bentley and laid the bag on an empty table and pulled out the vial with the insects in them and handed it to the crippled turtle. As Bentley went to work analyzing them, Sly slid his back against a wall and crumbled to the floor as he thought deeply about Carmelita and himself. He had been close to fixing their relationship for good, but something or someone had intervened. And what was the Freemason connection to all this. Sly rubbed his fingers against the ring that lingered in his pocket. He didn't want to worry Bentley with the extent of this…murder. They both had enough to worry about. Finally, Bentley called out to Sly in a worried voice that snapped the raccoon back to reality.

"Sly. I know what this is, even though it doesn't particularly exist yet. This is nano technology. Or at least, a good start to it. Small robots that can self replicate themselves and work as a united structure. Very advanced. Whoever you're going up against far surpasses me in technology."

"How do I beat it?"

"My best guess is to freeze them like you did, or use some sort of magnetic pulse or field to interrupt their signals."

Sly stood up and hugged Bentley.

"Thanks Bent." He turned to leave, but paused in the doorway. "Hey Bentley."

"Hmmm?"

"We have reason to believe that the Freemasons have some involvement in this."

"What? Why would they kill someone? Especially an Interpol chief."

"Chief Barkley was a Freemason. We think one of their enemies are involved. Considering that, and the advanced technology, think you can try and find us a lead?"

Bentley nodded. "I'll get to it."

Sly waved good bye and slipped out of the room and back into the city. The sun was high in the sky and he couldn't help but wonder if Carmelita and he had time to go on that date tonight. Sure, neither of them was in a fine mood, but the distraction could be what they needed.

Carmelita collapsed onto her bed. After a long shower that had gone from hot to cold as she cried and cried to let out her anguish and confusion, she felt exhausted. Memory after memory of her dead mentor pounded into her. She felt so lost without him, and the fact that she could be indicted for this weighed heavily on her. She rolled over on her side and stared at an empty place on her bed where Sly could sleep if he wanted to. She blinked at this thought. Did she really want to share a bed with that lying, thieving, no good raccoon. She paused for a moment before giving in. Yes, yes she did want to share a bed with him. Even though he had lied to her, he had really stepped up today and shown her his intentions. Her ears perked up as she heard the front door shut. Sly knocked weakly on the bedroom door, and Carmelita muttered an acknowledgement for him to enter. He did so and the two locked eyes again. Her puffy, bloodshot eyes were dead set with his equally concerned and scared ones. The uncertainty sparked the fire between them and within seconds, they met in an embrace as Carmelita cried openly into his chest and did nothing to hide her concerns. Her jarbled speech could be made out as anything along the lines of murderers, prison, separation, and doom. Sly merely held her and let her take out all she had on him. This was partly his fault anyways.

Fifteen minutes later, Sly tucked the worn out and sleeping figure of Carmelita into her bed and slipped out into the living room. He sat down on the couch and clasped his hands together and rested his elbows on his knees while his head sat on his hands. He lost himself in thought once more as he tried to recall anything and everything he could about Egypt and anything he could think of on the subject of Freemasons. He knew there had to be a connection, but he didn't know what.

Agony grinned a smile of wicked looking sharp teeth. His plan had been a success. He had discovered where the object was, and thanks to his minion's work, he even knew where his key was. As he boarded his private jet, he couldn't help but think about how long it had been since he had last been in France. He remembered it being sometime before the great plague, but he wasn't sure. Sometimes, being older than Hell was a definite good thing. Still, he had much to do in order to cement the agreement and earn his much deserved land and power.


	6. Of Angst, Reality, and Kissing

Sorry for the delay in updating, life keeps interrupting. Between training every night, homework, and this weekend's events. (Date Saturday) and today, which I will explain at the bottom of this update. Trust me, it's a WIN!! Also, after practicing writing all week on my own freelance story, I'm applying the same style here, so expect a change in length! I may go back and rewrite the other chapters on a later date as well.

Do not own Sly Cooper!

Sometime during his intense thought, Sly had fallen into the wonderful land of dreamless slumber. Even though he couldn't feel himself dreaming, images still ran through his mind as he tried to piece together this mess. Never before had Sly had much contact with the Freemasons. Sure, once or twice he'd stolen for them or from a corrupt member of them, but this was bigger than that. Something told him that even thought he did not believe in their ways, he should still believe in their fears. The Freemasons, like many other ancient fraternities, believed deeply in a coming apocalypse.

As the sun rose on the new day, Sly's eyes shot open in realization: a cold sweat breaking on his brow. Though he didn't notice it then when he encountered the shadowy figure, he had felt a similar presence before in the Cooper Vault. A safe assumption could be made that perhaps a similar force was at work in there; not technological, but the same feeling of ancient malice. Perhaps a manuscript was locked away there that could explain a possible connection. He stood up and began to pace, mentally scrolling through what little he knew of the vault. Then, like the apple on Newton's head, it hit him.

The original vault had been in Egypt and Sly was willing to bet a paw that the Masons built it. He had read a little of it within the Raccoonus, but his grasp on ancient hieroglyphics was very rough, so instead, he just analyzed the drawings of it. He remembered Murray distinctly saying that the architecture looked more like it was to hold something IN rather than keep others OUT. Sly knew then that he needed to get the Raccoonus and find someone more fluent in Egyptian hieroglyphics to find out more. But before he could do that, he smirked.

He had a date tonight, and he wasn't going to miss it for the world.

Carmelita had awoken just prior to Sly and listened to him pace out in the living room. She could tell by his footsteps that he was lost in deep thought and she was slightly tempted to go out and question him, but instead, she decided to wait and see if he would begin to talk to himself like he usually did when he thought intensely on a subject for very long. Perhaps if she was lucky, she would hear some information he would not normally divulge into. However, nothing came of it as Sly began to mumble about making breakfast for his vixen. She blushed lightly and moved from the door where she had been eavesdropping. Even though they had had a few close moments, and kissed before, that was a bold declaration. He considered her to be his. This brought about her remembering that she had promised him a date and on the inside, she was positively giddy about the prospect of having an honest to God date with the ringtail. She looked down and realized in disdain that she had fallen asleep in the same clothes she had worn to the station, and then it dawned on her she didn't even remember falling asleep or being tucked into bed. She looked back to the door, more specifically, at the light coming from under it. As if on cue, it went black as Sly stepped in front of her door on his morning routine. His very presence confirmed what she had been thinking and she sighed. She had been vulnerable, and he had done naught to take advantage of her. He truly was a gentlefur, and she only wished she could give him the best. He deserved that in the least.

She took the side door into the bathroom from her bedroom and began to wash up. She heard a slight hesitation in the sounds coming from the outside room as Sly became aware of her consciousness, and then he returned to what he was doing before. She smiled and knew that as soon as she walked out of the room, she would be greeted by him.

After brushing her fangs, she slipped into the shower. The warm water's embrace felt good on her body which was still sore and weak from the previous day's anguish. She washed her headfur thoroughly while trying to distract her thoughts from the possible ramifications of yesterday's events. Finding it increasingly hard to do so, she let her mind trail to the one thing that would distract her; Sly. And though it did her good to think about him, it made a part of her ache. Though she was inexperienced in the ways of physical attraction, she knew what it was. She wanted Sly to touch her, not in a lude sense, but she yearned for them to hold paws, to kiss. She wanted to feel wanted; the aching feeling that terrorizes all who seek love.

Love. The very thought brought back to mind Sly's confession at the beginning of this mess. He damn well loved her and she knew it not only through his words, but his actions. They spoke volumes. She turned off the water and stepped out the shower onto the carpet and wiped condensation off the mirror with a towel and stared at it for a moment before nodding and smirking.

Once this was over and done with, she was going to be Sly's girlfriend, one way or another. She'd see this through to the end with him, so they could have their happily ever after. She smiled at the thought and dried herself off whilst returning to her bedroom to find some clean apparel for today. She opened her closet with intent, seeking out a specific outfit. She found it easily, for she always left it on the upper rack, far left side. It was a simple outfit, just faded blue jeans and a black T-shirt with a white phoenix on it that proudly proclaimed "Music Rising." She had picked it up in New Orleans just after Hurricane Katrina. She had been sent there on an assignment to arrest a con man who had been stealing from the poor there. It was one of her favorite missions because of the overwhelming sense of accomplishment and good she felt when she slapped those cuffs on him. Unlike Sly, he was a true criminal and deserved every moment he was going to get behind bars.

This train of thought only brought her back to Sly. The shade of grey that denied her instituted laws of black and white and was the neutral in her life: the neutral that made her smile no matter what.

And that very same neutral was politely rapping on the door at this moment trying to garner her attention.

"Carmelita. I heard you up. Are you hungry?"

Carmelita thought of a devious plan. She knew that Sly probably had written a book by now on all the romantic things he was going to do for her tonight, but she decided to blow the lid on them all right that second.

In a moment of sheer boldness, she slammed open her door, grabbed onto the frame and hung out it slightly and responded quickly.

"I am hungry…for you." And let go, falling forward. He caught her quickly, only to have her throw her arms around his neck and use her momentum to bring him down into a powerful kiss that made her tail curl in delight. Part of Carmelita wanted to open her eyes to see the sheer look of shock on his face, but she was too preoccupied enjoying the wonderful feeling of their lips melding against another. The more she leaned into it, the more Sly pushed back into it. His arms found their way around her back and he straightened up and crushed her against his chest, lifting her slightly to better the angle.

And then he broke it off and back away, panting as if he had just run several miles.

"Wow. What'd I do for that one?"

Carmelita just smiled the way only women can do when they hold all the cards in their hand. She walked by him with a slight swagger and let the tip of her tail just barely tickle under his chin as she went by.

"You earned it over the past day. And you're not getting another one like it 'til tonight."

Sly licked his lips and savored the slight taste on them and nodded slightly.

"I can live with that…I think."

Carmelita looked back over her shoulder with and mustered all the lust she could into a single look. The second their eyes met, Sly froze in place like a drop of water in the freezing cold.

"Something to say there, Sylvester?" Carmelita cooed, saying his full name slowly and in a low, hushed whisper. Sly felt his body's temperature increase drastically.

"I…um…duh…um…"

"Go take a shower. A cold one, perhaps? I'm going to enjoy this wonderful breakfast my male has made for me." She turned and sat down on the bar, opening the newspaper and biting into a piece of toast that was prepared next to a bagel and hash browns. She glanced subtly at what was once the stoic and ever calm Sly Cooper. He had put his back against the wall and was breathing deeply. She had to stifle a laugh as he pinched himself, trying to make sure this real, before sliding into the bathroom to take that well advised cold shower.

Once safely in the confides of the bathroom, Sly bashed his head on the counter and stared at the floor in amazement. The past three minutes had been not only the scariest, but the most intense and amazing in his life. He had been planning out how to kiss Carmelita tonight, but she had just gone and laid out a whole new set of rules. And then that little part when she said 'my male.' Like she was acknowledging him as hers. What if she was? Sly smiled softly. He peeled his head from the cold counter and turned on the shower and waited for it to be mildly luke warm before hopping in and trying to cool himself off. Sly began to contemplate if he wanted to ask Carmelita to be his girlfriend as soon as he got out, or wait until tonight, or more wisely, wait until this situation was over. The threat of being discovered as accomplices to murder and being sent to prison still very well loomed over them. He pressed his paws against the shower wall and let the water cascade down his back as he looked down solemnly and as he realized that he had brought her into this. Everywhere he went, something would happen because of the Cooper name. It was both a blessing, and a curse. Perhaps what the shadow said was right. The world would be better off without a Cooper.

"Maybe I shouldn't have kids…" Sly mumbled to himself. "I inherited not only the wealth and power of my ancestors, but their enemies as well. That is a burden that I cannot, in good conscious, place upon unborn children who have done no wrong." He began to wash his headfur while still thinking out loud.

"Sure, I never got to make that choice; it was chosen for me by my father, and his father's father. It's a cruel never ending cycle until someone breaks the chain by ending it." Sly bit his lip. He could drive Carmelita away, or just leave entirely. It'd heartbreak her, but in the long run…would it be better? The possibilities were quite clear, but then Sly laughed heartedly and turned the shower off.

"I'm getting my hopes up waaaaay too high. I doubt Carmelita and I would last that far anyways." But even thought he said it, there was a nagging feeling in his heart that told him every syllable of that line had been pure, unequivilated bullshit.

Sly had just finished drying off when he came the realization that he didn't have a change of clothes. He sighed and wrapped a towel around his waist and stepped out of the bathroom. With his peripheral vision, he saw Carmelita looking out from over the paper at him and he blushed slightly.

"I was in a bit of a rush, and forgot my clothes."

Carmelita, who was in an equal state of redness, nodded and lifted the paper back up.

"You're safe, just make it quick." She said, pretending to be engrossed in an article. Sly waited a moment, then satisfied that it was safe, he sped over to his pile of clothes and picked out a clean pair. He took a deep breath and bravely dropped his towel.

Carmelita heard the towel hit the floor and temptation began to nag at her. Just a quick, small peak: a little teaser of what is to come. God, she wanted to look, but she couldn't. Sly would never do that to her, but her she was being…sluttish? She tried to focus on the words on the page, but they were nothing but scribbles on paper. Finally, grace came in the sound of his voice.

"It's safe."

She dropped the paper almost too quickly and looked at him with a genuine smile. He returned it and strode over to her, placing his paw on hers that was on the paper.

"Carmelita?"

"Yes Sylvester." Sly shuddered. He usually hated his full name, but when she used it, it effected him.

"Want to go out on that date tonight?"

"Very muchly so."

"Usually this is where I'd make some clever remark about when and where to pick you up, but seeing as to our living arrangements…"

"You know, I could fix that. Just simply kick you out on your ass for a couple of hours."

"True, but then I'd just be sitting against the door, waiting to be let back in. That, or I could let all your neighbors know who I am by breaking in through a window. I'm quite good at it you know."

"Yes, I know all too well."

Sly leaned against the counter and moved in close, his muzzle dangerously close to hers. Carmelita inavertedly backed up, before becoming entranced in Sly's deep brown eyes. She leaned in simultaneously with him and they kissed once more. Soft, and short, but it meant so much to the two confused adults who had never had a dating life ever. They both pulled away and looked in opposite directions, neither willing to make eye contact.  
Sly finally pulled away from her and took the dishes from her breakfast with him and started to clean them. Carmelita couldn't help but watch as he worked. He was a fur who knew who to keep a tidy house, something she truly appreciated.

And speaking of appreciating, she knew she was going to be getting and doing a lot of that tonight with the plans she knew he had.

Okay, not too bad. I'm cutting it a bit short there because I want to work on the date separately and I'm pretty tired and I have a photo shoot tomorrow with my best friend (and crush) who made me my fursuit. She needs me to wear it for her so she can put some shots of it online so she can try to get commissions.

Anyways, the promised news. Today, we cleaned out my late greatmother's house. A lot of her stuff was placed in this pile to be put in a yard sale, mostly her oriental stuff. I, being the oriental fan, saved it all and boxed it all into my car. I got home and googled some of it. Just some of it. I walked away with over five digits. All I can say on that subject. I'm very happy and may she rest in peace knowing her precious china men are in good hands.


End file.
